


Forgiveness

by JulesHawke



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulesHawke/pseuds/JulesHawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He needed it, ached for it but forgiveness was one thing he could never get from her. He killed her and so he did his penance. A one shot about Joker and the grief he felt after the destruction of the SR-1. </p>
<p>Bioware owns all things ME, I'm just playing in their sandbox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

Forgiveness.

It was only a word, eleven letters and three syllables.  But it wielded it’s power like a sharpened sword cutting through armour.  The need for it obliterated all else, the aching, yearning hunger eating away at his soul, driving him slowly insane.

“Why didn’t you just leave?”

_‘Because I couldn’t let you die.’_

Joker shifted position as his elbows dug into his knees, slouching further forward so he could bury his face in his hands.  His cap slipped backwards and he ignored it as it fell from his head, landing with a soft thump on the ground at his feet.  Tightly scrunched eyes couldn’t stop the tears, nothing seemed to stop the tears.  So many had fallen, still fell, etching a path down his cheeks, carving out his sorrow – some said guilt – for all to see.

“You should have.”

_‘I couldn’t.’_

He lifted his head, stared through blurred eyes at the simple carved headstone.  Commander Arelia Shepard.  Born a warrior, died a hero.  Words carved by skilful hands whose owner never knew the woman behind the name.  Words perched above an empty grave.

“Why?”

There was no answer.  There never would be.  He would never have the chance to ask for her forgiveness, or to tell her how much she meant to him.  He’d wasted the time they had in mundane jokes and sarcasm, pushing her away because of his own belief that she’d be disappointed with him.

“I miss you Ari.”

_‘I know.’_

“I can’t go on without you.”

_‘Yes you can.’_

A coffee table covered in empty alcohol bottles proved otherwise, along with the mess his apartment had become.  She’d be disappointed in him, he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  It wasn’t as if she was going to storm in the door and yell at him.  _Oh god I wish you would._

A sob escaped as his tears dropped onto the ground, disappearing into the well-tended grass as if they never existed.  The bench he sat on, surrounded by a hedge for privacy, was placed so people could pay their respects, but it wasn’t respect he came to pay.  Coming here every day was his penance, his punishment for a life lost too soon.  He came to face her, to remember the look of regret on her face as she’d been blown away from him, as she’d saved his life at the cost of her own.

“You always were stubborn.”

_‘But you liked that about me.’_

“I lo … .”  He sucked in a breath.  “Yes I did.”

_‘Who’s being stubborn now?  Coming here every day.’_

And going home to drown his grief in whatever alcohol he could find until he fell into dreamless sleep.  Only to wake, shower and come back.  A never ending cycle of heartbreak and endless guilt.

“It’s what I deserve.”

Kaidan had said that to him, through his tears after her funeral.  Joker hadn’t argued with him because he was right.  He’d wanted the biotic to toss him across the room, break his neck, end his pain.  But he hadn’t, he’d simply walked away and left Joker to suffer.

“It should have been me.”

_‘You know that would never have happened.’_

Garrus had been the one to point that out, he was a turian, duty was everything even though his heart had shattered at the loss of his friend.  He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t have done anything other than what she did.

“Yeah, stubborn.”

_‘Always.’_

He could see her grin, feel her light punch on his shoulder, smell the vanilla shampoo she always used.  It was madness.  She wasn’t there.  His mind was playing tricks on him, and yet it felt so real.

_‘You have to go on, Jeff, keep living.’_

Liara had told him that.  As she held him while they cried she had insisted that it was what Shepard would want.  She also said she needed to find her body.  Maybe he wasn’t the only one driven mad by grief.

“How?”

_‘One day at a time, don’t waste it.’_

Tali had held his hands, trying to convince him.  The grief will pass, don’t let it drag you down.  Well that worked – not.  He was happy for it to drag him down, to suffer it’s heavy weight that made his shoulders slump.

“I don’t want to.”

_‘It wasn’t your fault.’_

He’d sobbed on Chakwas’ shoulder while she’d whispered that in his ear.  He was still doing that.

“Like fuck it wasn’t my fault!”  He stretched forward and glared at the headstone.  “You don’t get to give me forgiveness because you died.  You should have left me.”

_‘I was your Commander, it was my job.'_

Wrex.  The huge krogan had looked at him for the longest time before gently placing his hand on Joker’s shoulder.  It’s a battlemaster’s job to make sure her krant survives.  There was no condemnation just acceptance and Joker had no response to that.

“It was my job to give you time.  How come you get to do yours but I don’t get to do mine?”

_‘But you did.  You saved a lot of lives that day.’_

“But not yours.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, still unable to stop the tears.  Six months and they still wouldn’t stop.  Was this what he was condemned to, crying for the rest of his life? 

_‘You need to fly, Jeff, it’s what you were born for.’_

“Yeah right, the Alliance doesn’t think so.”

Anderson had delivered the news, angry at the waste of talent because of bureaucratic cover ups, determined to get him back in the pilot’s seat.  But he wasn’t sure he wanted to sit there.

_‘A chance will come and you have to take it.’_

“Yeah, right.”

_‘Jeff.’_   The image of her scowling at him was so clear he gasped at its intensity.

“Okay.”

_‘Okay.’_

He reached down and picked up his hat, squashing it in his hands before placing it back on his head.

_‘Go home, Jeff.  You don’t need to keep coming here.’_

“I know.”

He stood up, gathered up his crutches and moved closer to the headstone.  He’d expected something ornate, befitting of a hero, but she’d left strict instruction and so it was a simple carved piece of white stone.  He kissed his fingertips and placed them softly on the curved top.

“I’m sorry Ari.”  He choked back a sob.

_‘I know.’_

He took several deep breaths, gathering the courage to walk away.  When he was ready he turned, not planning to look back, telling himself this was the last time.  He made it as far as the gap in the hedge before glancing over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”


End file.
